


Supernatural Redux

by AngelZash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Gen, James Moore/Sam Winchester, Jessica is James Moore, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, some dialogue from the episodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3212933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelZash/pseuds/AngelZash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was born as Samantha Winchester. Some things change, and others stay the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural Redux

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I'm writing this because of Dean's dynamic with his brother. He's so extremely protective of Sam as a guy, how much more protective would he be if Sam was a girl? And how would their adventures and antics change to reflect Sam's different gender? I haven't really seen much exploring this in the fandom, though I am still new, so I decided to write it. 
> 
> I'm also going to do Dean/Castiel later on, so readers be warned. Possibly, Sam/Gabriel too... I haven't decided yet. 
> 
> My plan is to rewrite scenes from the episodes, moving chronologically through the series. I probably won't update too often as I'm very busy and I have to pick out scenes to do, but I'll be updating on this. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys!

Dean’s sister Samantha had always been beautiful. When they were children, Dean didn’t think much of it. She was his sister, his annoying little pain-in-the-ass sister, plain and simple. When they got older and Samantha started attracting boys’ attention, Dean was able to admit he could understand why the guys all liked her. 

She was tall for her age, willowy with just enough curve in all the right places. Her long brown hair had just enough curl to make it nowhere near straight, but not so much it made ringlets without help. She didn’t like ponytails, so it normally hung loose about her face, framing and softening the strong jaw she’d inherited from their father. 

Samantha, or Sam as she preferred to be called, was a pretty girl, and that made life hell for poor Dean. The boys were an endless string of losers. Some were brave enough to ask her out or hit on her while others silently watched her. It didn’t matter that Sam could take care of herself; Dean knew exactly what those boys had in mind, and he wasn’t going to allow it. This was _his_ baby sister. She was too good for any of those dogs that went to her school. He put a stop to any guy’s advances before they could do anything about them, much to his sister’s annoyance.

Even after Sam ran away to college, Dean felt protective of his sister. She would never know, but he’d dropped by several times to watch her with her friends. She had looked happy though, so he hadn’t done more. His tendency to check in on her paid off, however, when their father went missing on a case.

The apartment Sam was living in was actually kinda nice. Dean hadn’t been anywhere this nice in ages, not somewhere that he could possibly stay anyway. And he knew he could if he only asked. Sam might be angry with her family, but he knew she loved them. Family was family. That was why he’d come to her for help in the first place. 

The place was dark when he entered, but that wasn’t enough to bother him. He made his way through the kitchen, noting how clean it was. There’s wasn’t a glass in the sink. Who was Sammy showing off for?

And then there was a fist flying at Dean’s head. He ducked and twisted, bringing a hand up to catch the fist and pull its owner off balance. It worked, and he sent a tall man flying into the sink. The man let out a whoof of breath, and then he turned, grabbing a knife as he did so. The knife gleamed ominously in the dim light from the window as the man brandished it at Dean. 

“Now, that’s not very friendly,” Dean commented with a grin. 

The man growled and ran at Dean, the knife arcing downward as he came. Dean sidestepped and brought up his hands to grab the knife arm as it adjusted to fly towards him again. 

“Good reaction time,” Dean commented as he flipped the man around again. He slammed the man into the wall, held him with an elbow to the throat, and pounded his arm against the side of a cabinet until the man’s hand opened. 

Just as the knife began to drop, the lights flicked on. 

“James? What--” said a feminine voice that Dean would know anywhere. 

“Hey, Sammy,” he said, turning his head just enough to see her.

“Samantha!” The guy began struggling harder beneath Dean. “Run! Go call the police!”

“You always did like them dramatic,” Dean commented with a grunt. 

“Well, _he_ does live here,” Sam answered dryly. Then she sighed one of those long suffering sighs Dean remembered from when he’d break up her dates before they could get too intimate in high school. “James, it’s alright. This is my brother, Dean. Dean, meet my boyfriend, who you are strangling.”

Dean grinned his widest, most shit-eating grin. “Hi!”

James glared at him and threw him off. Dean allowed it and turned his grin on Sam as he leaned back on the counter. 

“Nice place you got here, baby sis,” Dean said. “Why’d you go and decorate it with a weakling? Even if he is actually taller than you.” And at six foot, that wasn’t as easy as it seemed. 

A small growl from James had Dean flashing his smile over at the man. There was no way this oversized brute was good enough for his baby sister. How had he fooled Sam into thinking otherwise?

“Dean…” Sam sighed and glanced over at James apologetically. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t just want to visit?” 

“After two years? No.”

Grunting his assent, Dean sighed and nodded. “Hey, James? I need to talk to Sam here about some private family business.”

A dark frown twisted James’ face and his glare renewed. Surprisingly, the denial came from Sam herself.

“No,” Sam said, moving to stand next to her boyfriend. “Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of James.” 

She laid one willowy hand on James’ arm, and stared Dean down. James, for his part, puffed up with pride like a peacock might parading about its territory. Dean wasn’t sure if he hated James for that or sympathized with him. It wasn’t every man that could land someone so beautiful _and_ smart. 

Frowning at them, Dean quickly considered his options. He could make his sister angry by insisting, but then she probably wouldn’t help him. He could just lay it all out, but the cardinal rule was that outsiders weren’t let in on their secret. It simply wasn’t safe for them, even if it would make Sam regret making Dean say what he needed to in front of James. It could also ruin Sam and James’ relationship, which would again make Sam angry again and unlikely to help just from spite.

So door number three it was…Hedge like no tomorrow.

“Dad hasn’t come home in a few days,” Dean said, crossing his arms and trying to sound somber.

“So?” Sam snorted, a smirk growing on her lips. “So he’s working overtime on a Miller timeshift. He’ll stumble in again eventually. He always does.”

Nodding, Dean tried again. “Dad’s on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam blinked and stared at Dean, her brain obviously processing that information. James glanced between them, looking a bit lost and trying to hide it. 

“James, love,” Sam said, turning to give James a small apologetic smile finally. “Will you give us a minute?” 

“What?” James looked over at Dean, looking slightly betrayed. “But I--”

“Please?” Sam turned her Grade A, irresistible pout on him. Dean himself never stood a chance against that pout, but he always at least tried. James just crumbled in a second. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “But you need me, I’ll just be in our room. Okay?”

The grin Sam rewarded him with could have blinded angels if they were real. “Thank you!” She leaned up and gave him a kiss that quickly turned more heated than Dean was comfortable with. 

Clearing his throat, Dean let his hand knock against a porcelain jar on the counter. It rattled loudly as it first tipped and then settled back down again. The two broke apart at the noise, James glaring protectively at Dean. Then James turned and left, his back straight and radiating unhappiness. 

“You share a room,” Dean asked, incredulously. 

Sam just glared at him in response. 

“You...uh...should get dressed,” Dean said after a minute with a wave at his sister’s sleepwear. They were just a tiny tee that had seen better days and a pair of boy’s undershorts. Dean really hoped they weren’t James’. “We need to get moving.”

“Why?” Sam frowned at him, cocking one hip as she leaned against the table. “Dad drops off the face of the Earth and you want me to drop everything and go looking for him in the middle of the night?”

“He is our dad. And he’s missing,” Dean retorted, irritated. Didn’t she realize how bad this could be? “I think he’s in real trouble this time, Sammy.”

Sam snorted and shook her head, sending her now short brown hair flying about her face. “He’s always missing, always in trouble. Remember the poltergeist in Amherst or the devil’s gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. But he came back. He always comes back.”

“Not for this long. He’s missing and I need to find him,” Dean told her, his voice tight. “I can’t do this without you. Now are you gonna come with me or not?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m done hunting,” Sam said firmly, a stubborn look on her face. “For good. You can’t just burst into my life now and try to make me take it up again. I left it behind for a reason, Dean. I’m not changing my mind now.”

“Come on…” Dean gave her an exasperated look. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah?” Sam huffed and straightened up. “Remember when I was nine and I was convinced there was a monster in my closet? Dad gave me a .45 and told me to shoot it if any monsters came out of the closet.”

“So? What else would you do with a monster in the closet? Make friends?” 

“I was nine, Dean,” Sam hissed. “He was supposed to tell me there was nothing in the dark to be afraid of. Not put a loaded weapon in a child’s hands!”

“Oh, come on,” Dean snapped back. “Are you kidding me? You know that’s not true. You know there are worse things in the dark than most people can imagine!”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, one hand coming up to tightly grip the edge of the table. “But still! The way Dad raised up, his obsession to find the thing that killed Mom… It’s been years and he’s still no closer to finding it! So he kills everything he can find.”

“And _we’ve_ saved a lot of people doing it too.”

“Do you really think Mom would have wanted this for us? Any of this?”

Dean paused, his brain blipping at the question before white-hot anger flared through him. What would Sam know? She couldn’t even remember their mother. He turned and started out the door into the hallway, making his way determinedly to the front door. His sister followed him, her steps radiating anger. 

“Dean! The way we were raised… Weapons training, melting silver into bullets…” She made a frustrated little sound. “Man, Dean...We weren’t children; we were warriors! That’s the way warriors are raised. Or soldiers are trained. Not children!” 

Stopping at the door, Dean turned to level a hard stare at his sister. “So what are you gonna do? Just live some normal, apple-pie life...Is that it?”

“No,” Sam bit back at him. “Not normal. I don’t think we could ever get normal with what we know is out there. Just...safe. A safe life.”

Dean tsked and looked away, unable to look at Sam a moment longer. “And that’s why you ran away?!”

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who told me not to come back. Remember?” 

And God forgive him, but Dean thought she actually sounded hurt at the rejection. Still, she had stayed away. She should have realized Dean hadn’t said that. And Dad could never stay angry at his baby girl for long. 

“Yeah, well...” Dean took a deep breath. “Dad’s in real trouble right now, if not dead already. I can feel it.” He paused and looked back at his sister. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t want to.”

Sam took a deep breath and let it out. Her gaze wandered about the stark hallway, frustration clear on her face. Finally, she asked, “What was he hunting?”

Taking a deep breath of his own, Dean nodded. “I’ve got the files in the car, but Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. ‘Bout a month ago, some guy went missing. They found his car, but he’d vanished. Completely MIA…”

“Maybe he was kidnapped?”

“Yeah, well, there’s a whole string on men that have gone missing on the same stretch of highway going back twenty years. Ten of them, in fact. All men, all the same circumstances. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go check it out. That was about three weeks ago. Haven’t heard from him since, which is bad enough.” Dean pulled out a small recorder from his pocket and held it out towards Sam, speaker up. “Then I get this voicemail yesterday.” 

Dean hit the play button and their father’s voice began speaking. It was scratchy and broken up, but the thing that really sounded out of place was the background sounds. To the normal person, it was just a growling static, but as trained hunters, Dean and Sam heard more. 

“You know there’s EVP on that?”

“Not bad, Sammy,” Dean told her with a proud smile. “Kinda like riding a bike, isn’t it?” 

Sam quickly ducked her head, but it wasn’t fast enough to hide the answering smile on her face. 

“Alright, well,” Dean said, getting back to business. “I slowed it down and ran it through a gold wave. Took out the hiss and this is what I got.” 

He hit play again and a soft, feminine voice breathed out, “I can never go home…”

“Never go home,” Sam repeated, a thoughtful frown on her face. 

She tilted her head after a moment. “And where were you that you weren’t with him?”

“Doing my own gig. This little voodoo thing down in New Orleans.”

“Dad let you go on a case on your own?”

Annoyed, Dean narrowed his eyes at her, “Dude! 26!”

Snorting, Sam looked far more amused by that than she had any right to, in Dean’s opinion. 

With an irritated sigh, Dean put the recorder back in his pocket and leaned back against the door. Crossing his arms, he leveled an expectant stare at Sam. 

“You know, in almost two years, I’ve never bothered you...Never asked you for a thing.”

Sam sighed and let her head drop back to stare at the ceiling. Dean waited as patiently as he could for her decision. He was rewarded when she looked back down a moment later and nodded. 

“Alright. I’ll go,” she said. And then before Dean could get too excited, she added, “I’ll help you find him, but on one condition. I have to be back here by Monday morning.”

Dean made a face at that, but accepted it with a nod. He’d take what he could get. And he doubted she’d be able to stay away anyway once she was back. College life sounded dull next to what they did. 

“What’s Monday morning?” he asked as she turned away. 

Sam stopped and half turned to look back at him. 

“I have an interview.”

“A job interview? Skip it,” Dean told her. She’d be used and abused by anyone lucky enough to hire her anyway. 

“No...A law school interview,” she told him, sounding annoyed again. “It’s my whole future on a plate, potentially.”

“Law school? Huh.”

“Deal or not?” Sam crossed her arms and gave him a look that always reminded Dean of their mother when she had been alive. 

“Fine. I’ll have you back by Monday,” Dean agreed. He turned and opened the door. “I’ll be waiting in the car.” 

“Just be a few minutes,” Sam said. 

In reality, it took about half an hour for Sam to show up again. Just as Dean was getting ready to go find her, she appeared in the doorway of the complex. Now she was wearing a form-fitting pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie. She was also wearing James’ hand on her waist, as though he was reluctant to let her go. 

Well, Dean could understand that, but he scowled at the sight anyway. Although Samantha was awesome, in his own not-so-humble opinion, she was still his baby sister. James was also not invited. Ever. 

The two stopped by the car and shared a long kiss. Sighing, Dean let his forehead drop to the steering wheel. He was giving them to the count of five, and then he was blaring the horn. Thankfully, he didn’t need to: they stopped on the count of four.

“Sure you don’t need me to come along? Help?” James sounded so syrupy sweet as he asked that Dean wanted to punch him on principle. He could also see just how he’d managed to wriggle his way into Sam’s good graces. 

“I’m sure,” Sam said, playing with James’ shirt. “I’ll be back before you know it. Dad’s probably just keeping company with his good old friends Jack, Jim, and José. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you’ll be back in time for your interview?”

“I’ll be back in time,” Sam told him, sounding a bit exasperated. Dean frowned at that and thought about telling them to hurry up to stop this from going any further. “It’s only for a couple days.” 

“I’m sorry,” James sighed. “I just worry. I love you.”

Sam sighed even as Dean quietly groaned. Was this guy for real? 

“I know,” Sam told him with a small smile. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon.” 

Sam opened the door finally and tossed her bag into the backseat before turning for one final kiss. Then she got in and closed the door.

No sooner had James stepped back from the car than Dean gunned the engine and shot away. Sam frowned at him, but she stayed quiet. 

Dean was grateful for that. What he’d just seen had unnerved him, and he didn’t really want to think about just how big a jerk he was for taking her away from her life. 

After all, hadn’t he always just wanted her to be safe and happy?


End file.
